Liquid Oxygen
by somethingsdont
Summary: Eric, Calleigh and a pool... and a shower. Total PWP.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Liquid Oxygen  
**Author**: Lucy (somethingsdont)  
**Pairing**: Eric/Calleigh  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Timeline**: None  
**Summary**: Eric, Calleigh and a pool. Total PWP.  
**Notes**: Unfortunately for everyone, I am _relatively_ easily persuaded into writing smut. I'm also kind of being persuaded into making this a three-parter. Kind of. We'll see.

* * *

The very first time Eric Delko visited Calleigh Duquesne's house, he'd noticed the pool in her backyard, and after he'd fawned over how she could go swimming without ever leaving the privacy of her home, she'd begun inviting him over for quick swimming lessons. It wasn't that she was a bad swimmer; she could definitely hold her own. But he'd been professionally trained in the art of the butterfly, and they'd both used that as an excuse to spend more time with each other, so the lessons had continued, and their relationship had grown around the small underwater pool in her backyard.

It wasn't after they'd begun dating that he started dropping by for no reason other than to drag her into her pool for an afternoon swim with him. She never minded, always found the time to fill the neighborhood with their laughter, and in that way, he'd taught her much more than a pretty swim stroke.

Recently, he'd been spending more and more nights over, and the only downside to this arrangement was that sometimes, other activities began taking bites into their swim time. Other activities encapsulated more than just sex, which he would've eagerly traded away an hour of swimming for; there were mundane household chores, her soaps and the occasional grocery store run, all things she used to work around his lessons, but now that he was present nearly all of the time, it appeared to him that the ratio of swim to non-swim was beginning to grow lopsided.

"Let's go swimming," he suggested one night out of the blue as they were putting away dishes they'd used during dinner.

She stopped what she was doing and stared at him like he'd asked her to chew off her own finger. "It's nearly midnight."

He raised an eyebrow, picking up a plate and sliding it into her cabinet. "Never gone night swimming?"

"I have an outdoor pool, Eric," she pointed out, pulling open a drawer and sticking forks and knives inside. "It's usually too cold to."

He shrugged. "It's supposed to be eighty overnight," he rattled off nonchalantly, "and the humidity skyrocketed over the weekend."

"You checked," she noted suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. "You look guilty."

"Yeah, I watch the weather network," he replied sarcastically. "You caught me." He chuckled. "Come on, Cal. It won't be this warm or humid at night for a while."

She slipped the last spoon into its place and closed the drawer. "Okay," she relented. "Just a little while. I need my sleep."

He closed the cabinet door and turned to her. "Could've fooled me last night," he murmured, ghosting his fingertips down her arm.

She bit her lip, skin heating up as she recalled just what he was referring to. "You were… persistent," she replied defensively.

He grinned and deposited a quick kiss on her lips. "Go get changed. I'll meet you outside in five."

It took her a little over ten, but if he had been planning to annoy her about it, he forgot it all the moment she slipped out the screen door to join him on the patio, clad in a little black bikini with towels draped over her arm. She looked… incredible, not that he was surprised. But something about the night air seemed to accentuate her curves, and when she moved to flick on the lights, he had to stop her. There was something mysterious and thrilling about the darkness. He took the towels from her and tossed them onto the nearest lounge chair, his eyes appreciatively running down her body.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he couldn't help but ask, hands roaming shamelessly across her skin.

She smiled, fingers finding his wrists to stop him. "And what about you, Mister?" she teased, leaning in and lowering her voice to punctuate her point. "Not too shabby yourself," she murmured, fingernails raking across his bare chest.

He licked his lips but exercised restraint, turning his body toward her pool. "I can't believe you have your own pool," he said in awe before running toward it and tossing himself in, causing a rather exaggerated splash.

She waited until he resurfaced before approaching the pool herself. "That's the reason you're always around, isn't it?" she asked playfully as she took a seat at the edge of the pool. "Taking advantage of my possessions."

He chuckled, eyes drawn to her pale skin contrasting against her black bikini. "That's right," he replied boldly. He was pleasantly surprised by the temperature of the water. As much as he'd gone on about how perfect the weather was, he had imagined the water to be colder than it was. He pushed himself into a breaststroke and swam a few laps around her pool before approaching her. She hadn't moved from her place on the edge, legs swinging absentmindedly in the water. She was still suspiciously dry, and he wanted nothing more than to change that.

"I asked if you wanted to swim, not sit there and look pretty," he teased, stilling her leg with his hand and planting a soft kiss on her knee.

She rested the soles of her feet on his shoulders and ran them down across his chest a few times, drawing inconsequential shapes with her toes. It was a really, really distracting maneuver, and he felt his blood rushing south. He pushed her legs aside, slightly spreading them in the process, and in response, she pinned his head gently between her knees, ankles coming to rest against his back, hands moving to play with his wet hair.

"When are you growing your hair back?" she asked, fingers raking across his short, prickly haircut.

He smiled up at her, hands on her outer thighs. "You don't like it?"

"I can't… hold on to it," she replied thoughtfully, legs loosening to make room for her hands as she cupped his cheeks, fingertips trailing the stubble on the sides of his head.

He turned his head to kiss her inner thigh, then dived underwater, sliding away easily from her legs. Moments later, he resurfaced near the center of the pool.

"I'll grow out my hair if you can catch me," he challenged.

She grinned, biting like he knew she would, and pushed herself off the edge and into the water. She adopted a stroke he'd helped her perfect and chased after him, body gliding gracefully through the water. She caught up to him easily, but as she reached out to take hold of him, he submerged and used the depth of the pool to his advantage, swimming underneath her and away from her arms. She turned around and went after him again, but it was dark and he was very fast and deathly silent, and she soon lost track of him. She paddled to the edge of the deep end of the pool to give herself a short break, carefully surveying the surface for when he would inevitably reemerge.

She brushed her damp hair aside, but before she got to take two breaths, she felt his body brush up against hers, and his head popped out barely a foot away from her.

"Give up?" he asked cheekily, hands gripping the ledge on either side of her head.

She latched herself onto him before he could react. "Caught you," she murmured, stealing a small kiss as her victory prize. "Now you have to grow out your hair."

He shook his head and pulled himself closer to the wall of the pool, bringing her with him. He pinned her there and leaned in to properly kiss her, lips moving against lips. He dipped his tongue into her mouth to thoroughly taste her, and the urgency there both surprised and thrilled her. She pushed him away slightly, but he barely let two seconds pass before his lips were on hers again, seemingly insatiable.

"Eric, what are you doing?" she murmured against his lips.

He didn't reply, only held her in place with one hand as he ground his hips against hers, allowing her to know just how much he needed this, how many times he'd fantasized about taking her in the water, about making love to her against every inch of wall that surrounded her pool.

Her eyes widened, and though she immediately conjured up incredibly vivid images of the act, she pushed against his chest, skin slippery from moisture. "My neighbors…"

"Are asleep," he finished for her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

She shook her head. "They can see us," she argued, peering self-consciously at the wooden fence that separated her backyard from her neighbor's.

"Lights are off," he mumbled, continuing his assault down to her neck and back up to her ear.

"Night vision goggles," she continued irrationally, her brain looking for any reason to stop her body from reacting the way it was.

He chuckled. "Well, then let 'em look," he whispered, splaying kisses across her cheek and around her lips.

It wasn't a very good argument, but she suddenly couldn't tell the difference between good and bad arguments, a condition he used to his advantage. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her slowly, carefully balancing their combined weights with one hand, receiving a lot of help from buoyancy. With his free hand, he reached around and found the knot that kept her bikini top slick against her skin, and quickly found that he couldn't untie it with one hand, especially when she dipped her tongue into his mouth and slipped her hands into the back of his swimming trunks and began agonizingly massaging his hips, his buttocks. He tasted her and a hint of chlorine, and when her hands moved around to his pelvis, he pulled away from her lips and grunted in frustration.

"Take off your top," he told her, bending his head slightly to take the neck strap into his mouth. He tugged at it with his teeth.

She kept her hands on his pelvis and ran her fingertips over his hipbones a few times before lightly brushing his erection. He cursed under his breath and leaned in to kiss her, hips moving in an attempt to catch her wandering hand again, but no such luck. She removed her hands from his trunks, and they travelled to the back of his head, pulling him closer still. She felt his tongue trace her lips over and over.

He pulled away first, lungs screaming for oxygen, and in the darkness, he saw her smile.

"My bikini top giving you trouble?" she asked innocently, leaning in to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose.

He responded by pressing his body against hers, pinning her against the side of the pool, though the water made it difficult for him to use his weight to his advantage. Her breathing quickened anyway, and her hands tightened around his biceps.

"Take it off," he grunted again. He kept one hand on the ledge while the other moved to her thigh, and with a little help from his knee and sheer strength, he managed to ease her higher against the side of the pool. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his torso to stay afloat, which freed his hand. Once again holding on to the edge with both hands, he brought his lips to the valley between her breasts and lapped gently at the water that remained on her skin. Her hands immediately moved to the back of his head to guide him.

He outlined the fabric of her bathing suit with his lips, causing her to squirm. Finally, she reached behind herself and undid the knot that held the piece together, then moved to the back of her neck to untie the second string. The top slid off, revealing her breasts to the humid Miami air. And to Eric's tongue, which dashed across to the nearest nipple and began teasing her with slow licks and nibbles. She moaned at the sudden sensation and bucked her hips against his body. He grinned.

He pushed away from the wall for a moment to allow her to slide down the length of his body, and before he could say anything witty about how easy it was to undress her, he felt her hands frame his face as her lips crashed against his with a carnal hunger, a muted frustration that he knew didn't originate from her. He kissed her back eagerly, pacing her tongue with his own, tasting her, tasting the animalistic urges that flared within both of them, and he had to stop what he was doing when she wrapped her legs around his thigh and rubbed herself against him. Her hands left his face and trailed down his chest, across his abdomen, and they deftly slipped into his swimming trunks again.

"Calleigh," he hissed, fingers curling against the edge of the pool. "God, if I could use my hands right now…"

"You'd what?" she asked breathily, her hands coming to grip his erect cock.

He groaned, his hips instinctively pushing against her. "I'd be inside you already," he grunted, spraying kisses on any patch of skin he could reach, "making you beg for more."

She shivered in anticipation, her fingers moving slowly up and down his shaft. "You dream big, Eric Delko."

He couldn't take the torturous movements of her hands any longer, so he brought his knee to the wall of the pool, effectively creating a makeshift seat for her, since her legs were still tangled tightly around his thigh. Using his legs to keep her afloat, he brought one hand down and with dexterity he didn't know he still possessed, he swiftly untied her bikini bottoms and tugged them away. Before his arm muscles gave out, he flicked his thumb over her clit, eliciting a whimper from her.

She recovered quickly and began tugging at his trunks, but she struggled with removing them without submerging underwater, and at the rate she was panting, she wouldn't make it long down there. Instead, she turned around so that she was facing the wall of the pool. Holding on to the edge herself to save him the effort of keeping her afloat, she turned her head slightly and grinned.

"Swimming trunks," she said, feeling his chest press against her back.

"What about 'em?" he asked playfully, depositing a kiss on her shoulder.

She smiled and leaned back slightly. "They seem to be a couple sizes too small," she teased, moving her body up and down against him a few times to prove her point.

His breathing quickened against her neck, and she saw his hands leave the edge of the pool. She smiled when he heard him slipping out of his trunks, but before she could turn around and properly take advantage of the new situation, she felt his strong arms wrap around her from behind, his fingertips suddenly playing with her nipples, and she couldn't swallow the cry that shattered through the night air.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips near her ear. She shivered, the sound of her breath transforming into a moan when he took an earlobe into his mouth and sucked gently.

He trailed his fingers down along her ribs, across her abdomen, finally settling on her inner thighs. He purposely avoided spots he knew she'd like, and he smiled in satisfaction when she began squirming, legs kicking underwater as she attempted to guide his hands without drowning them both. Finally, after sufficiently irritating her, he gave her what she wanted, moving his hands to lavish attention to her center. He pressed against her clit, eliciting a sound that seemed to vibrate through her entire body.

"Hm," he murmured playfully, fingers teasing her entrance. He nipped at her neck. "The water's making it hard to tell if you're ready."

"_Eric_," she ground out in frustration, hips pushing against his elusive fingers.

The tip of his finger slid in first, and he heard her take in a deep breath and hold it. Slowly and very meticulously, he added a second finger and pushed both deep into her. She held back her gasp, knowing any noise could set off suspicion if anyone was in the vicinity. She felt his fingers move in and out of her, and it felt unbelievable, especially as his other hand began teasing her clit. His actions intensified, his fingers moving and twisting just the right way against her inner walls, and she felt herself approaching the edge. She closed her eyes and prepared herself, but he felt it, too, and if there was one thing he was ready to face death or dismemberment for, it was a sexually frustrated Calleigh, so he pulled away and flipped her around before she had the chance to complain.

Her arms wrapped around his body for support, but she was seething. "Eric Delko," she warned, still trying to catch her breath. "I think you're forgetting my proficiency with guns."

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. "I also remember your penchant for kink," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Finish what you started," she ordered.

He lifted his hips slightly and felt his erection brush against her thigh. He did it again, but without the use of his hands, there was little he could actually get done, and he wasn't particularly confident he could risk anything that kept him from drowning in his state of semi-haze.

Luckily, she seemed to be willing to take this one. He felt her legs hook around his thighs, felt her guiding him to her entrance, felt the most incredible warmth as she slid down partially onto him.

"_God_," he groaned, his fingers tightening against the edge of the pool. He pushed his hips forward and pinned her against the wall, using it as leverage to slide the rest of the way into her. She moaned, and he felt her hands move around to his back, then down to his butt cheeks. Curving her palms against them, she pulled him up toward her as she ground her hips down onto him, sighing in pleasure at her own actions.

He pushed up against her, meeting her thrusts with his own as well as he could without the immediate use of his arms. Her hands were doing a fantastic job keeping them intimately joined, and it didn't take them long to find a desperate but steady rhythm together.

He kissed her, easing his tongue between her lips and finding hers to tease. This drove her insane, and she let her appreciation be known in the form of a throaty moan.

"Your neighbors are gonna hear you," he growled, pulling away to nip at her neck.

"You're the one who—_oh_," she cried out as he thrust into her. She tightened her legs around his waist, needing him impossibly closer, wanting him deeper and deeper. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations he was delivering with his slow but attentive plunges. She reached behind her for the edge of the pool and held on for leverage, squeezing her leg muscles so hard she was pretty sure they were going to ache later, but she didn't care, because she was bobbing slightly in the water, meeting his thrusts with abandon, and he filled her so deeply and snugly that she had to wonder why they'd never done this in all the times he'd come over for a swim.

Then they found it. The perfect angle, the most exquisite friction either had ever experienced. She felt it, and she knew that he felt it too because he quickened the pace, working with what little leverage he had to drive into her. She raced to catch up to this new rhythm, legs clenched tightly around his thighs, but she found that she needed to do very little work to receive the most mind-blowing sex of her life.

She opened her eyes and saw him staring back at her, eyes glazed in ecstasy.

"Calleigh," he groaned, breathing erratic against her face. He closed his eyes and momentarily rested his forehead against hers, hips still moving to the best of his ability. "God, that feels so good."

She moved her legs from his thighs up to his back, crossing her ankles just above his waistline and discovering a different but equally pleasurable angle. Her hands left the ledge and came to rest on his back, and though her nails were softened by the water, she dug them into his skin as she neared the edge.

Her breathing hitched as she felt him moving faster inside her, helped by the new positioning of her legs. "Eric…"

"What?" he grunted, the very sensation of being so intimately joined with her nearly driving away what remained of his sanity.

"We're having sex in public," she whispered, her own words sending a thrilling tingle throughout her body. Her hips continued following his rapid rhythm, and she was so close she barely even knew what she was saying anymore.

He laughed breathily. "Your pool's on private property," he argued, rearranging what little coherence he still had. "But if you really want to have sex in public," he added, planting a quick kiss on her jaw, "that can be arranged."

She couldn't find the means to reply, because she was almost there. He sensed this too, and he did what he could to urge her on, thrusts increasing in fervor and momentum, the wall behind her being used for every ounce of leverage it provided. Her hands rolled up to the back of his neck, and she pulled him blindly toward her, lips crashing together as she came hard around him. Her ankles dug into his back, and he gave her everything he had to help her ride out the intensity of her climax. Her cries were muffled by his mouth on hers, and when he felt her tongue along his bottom lip, it was enough for him, too, as he pulled away from her lips to bury his face into her neck. He came quietly but powerfully, his entire body shaking as he thrust deeply into her a few times before slowing to a stop, hands still tightly gripping the ledge. She loosened her legs around him, bodies still intimately joined.

He lifted his head and smiled lazily at her. "That one's for the memory banks, huh?" he asked, kissing her softly.

She smiled back, looking extremely satisfied. "I think I'm going to have to get rid of this pool," she laughed, her tremors traveling downward, and he let out a small grunt.

"Why's that?" he asked, slowly pulling himself out of her and earning a whisper of a moan.

She reached behind her to support her own weight. "How do you expect me to actually _swim_ in it anymore?" she asked coyly, pulling her legs up so her feet could rest against his pelvis.

He chuckled, trying not to let her feet's motions affect him. "You didn't get rid of your fridge," he pointed out with a mischievous grin. "Or your couch." He paused thoughtfully. "How many couches would we have gone through by now? Seven? Eight?"

She bit back her smile. "Make yourself useful and get me a towel," she told him.

"What if your neighbors see me?" he asked in a mocking tone, already making his way toward the nearby ladder. He pulled himself out of the water, arms aching, and as the water dripped off him, Calleigh had to appreciate that Eric had an extremely well-shaped body, right down to his… She couldn't help but smile. Yeah, she thought to herself, she was very intimately familiar with how well-shaped that part was.

As Eric dashed across her backyard to retrieve the towels they'd left on the patio, Calleigh gathered up the three pieces of clothing they'd dispersed. If her neighbors hadn't heard them, the bathing suits floating around in the morning certainly would tip them off, and she'd rather be able to say hello to eighty-year-old Mrs. Patterson without turning five shades of pink.

Lost clothes in tow, she pushed herself out of the water and into Eric's awaiting towel.

Without another word, the pair scurried inside, their little adventure in the pool not likely to ever be forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Let the records show that I wrote this at 5 in the morning against my will. Therefore, I am not liable for anything lost (e.g. your mind) or damaged (e.g. your soul) during the reading of this story.

* * *

Eric was grinning from ear to ear when they stepped into her house, dripping pool water onto the ceramic tiles below.

"You look mighty proud of yourself," Calleigh remarked with a laugh, carefully securing her towel around her body.

He ran his own towel quickly across his skin to soak up some moisture, then leaned down and wiped away the small puddles of water that had accumulated on the floor. He stood up, took the bathing suits she was still carrying from her and wrapped them up with his towel.

"Laundry hamper," she instructed, making a special effort not to admire his naked body. She ran her fingers through her drying hair and made a face. "I need to take a shower," she announced. When she looked up and saw Eric fighting a huge grin, she quickly added, "Alone."

"What?" he cried like it was the greatest act of injustice. "You're going to use all the hot water."

She turned away from him, carefully hiding her smile, and began making her way to her bedroom. "It's warm today; you said it yourself," she argued, "so you can take a cold one."

"Or I could take one with you," he pointed out rationally, following mere steps behind her, "and we could go to bed at the same time."

She ignored him and entered her bedroom. He scowled and left her for a moment to drop off their bathing suits and his towel in her hamper. When he returned, she was rummaging through her drawers for a clean change of clothes.

He snuck up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of chlorine that still persisted in her hair, her skin. "I put everything in the hamper like you asked," he murmured, brushing aside her hair to deposit a quick kiss at the base of her neck.

She turned around and leaned back to close her drawer. "We're still not taking a shower together," she informed him.

He frowned. "Why not?"

She wriggled away from him and began toward the bathroom. "Because every time we take a shower together," she replied pointedly, "we end up late for work."

"We've only taken two showers together. I don't think that's much of a statistic," he shot back, stopping by his bag to extract a pair of boxers before tailing her to the bathroom. He slipped inside before she could close the door. "Besides, neither time came immediately after incredible sex in the pool," he added, raising his eyebrow for emphasis. "Anyway, we don't even have work tomorrow, so I think I just shot down your entire argument."

She smiled and patted him on the cheek. "You go first, then."

His face fell. "What?"

"Yeah," she laughed, "you're faster so go first. Use as much hot water as you'd like." She leaned in and kissed him, her towel brushing against his naked body. "How's that for logic?" she teased.

His lips curled into a slight pout. "Damn it," he muttered, pressing a quick kiss on her lips before watching her slip out of bathroom and close the door behind her. He sighed as he put the toilet seat down and left his boxers there. Honestly, he found it difficult to complain, because that pool just changed from their playground to Their Playground, and he liked the idea of her becoming flustered by the memories he'd surely imprinted into her mind. He pulled open the door to the shower stall and entered, and after he finished adjusting the water to a temperature he liked, he flexed his arm muscles. He'd demanded a lot from them in the past half-hour, and while they were fairly sore, he was pretty sure it'd be worse in the morning. A hundred percent worth it, though.

He figured he should probably hurry, because he knew that she hadn't really meant it when she gave him permission to use up all the hot water. He reached for her shampoo. As flowery as it was, he'd used it the last time he stayed over when he'd realized that his own bottle was empty, and if she'd noticed, she hadn't said anything. It wasn't like he had all that much hair to shampoo, anyway, and he'd used so little that he doubted anybody could've detected it. He'd forgotten to get a new bottle of his own shampoo for himself, so he had no choice but to use hers again. Not that he minded smelling a little like her, of course.

Barely five minutes in, he heard the bathroom door click open. Through the light steam that had gathered on the glass door of the shower stall, he saw her drop her own change of clothes next to the sink. She loosened the towel that clung to her body, and it dropped to the ground. He couldn't get a very good look, even as he wiped at the glass, but it didn't matter because she pulled the door open and slipped inside the stall.

"I thought we weren't taking a shower together," he noted with a sly grin, hands already glued to her hips.

"Changed my mind," she whispered, closing the distance.

"You and your control," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her willing lips.

There were goose bumps on her skin when his hands travelled along her arms and down her back, making up for the contact he couldn't have while they were in the pool. He kissed her gently at first, wanting to savor the softness of her lips for as long as he possibly could, but the chastity disappeared quickly when her hands sneaked around to his back, down to his waist, and she greedily pulled him toward herself. He felt the familiar rush of blood as she pressed against him, her tongue doing that urgency thing it always did when she meant business.

She detached herself for a moment and took in a deep breath through her nose. "Did you use my shampoo?" she asked, hands moving up to touch his hair.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "do you like it?"

She laughed and pulled him down to kiss him. "You don't even have hair," she quipped.

"I do too," he protested, hands rolling up the sides of her body.

She studied the outline of his head thoughtfully. "Grow it out."

He shook his head and smiled. "You didn't catch me in the pool."

She smiled. "Actually, I did," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest as water rained down on them.

"So are you just here to chide me for using your hair products?" he asked suggestively, gently trapping a nipple between his thumb and index. "Or was there something else you wanted?"

"Yeah," she replied, taking a low breath, "actually there is…"

He grinned. "I'm listening."

"I sneaked in here because," she started in a low voice, leaning in as she did. "I care about water conservation," she whispered into his ear.

His shiver mingled with a hint of laughter, and he took the opportunity to nibble at her shoulder. "Hm," he murmured against her skin, "you didn't seem too concerned about that before."

Much to his disappointment, she pulled away from him and reached for her body wash. Before she could do anything with it, he grabbed the bottle from her and flipped open the top. He poured some into his palm and plopped the container back onto her shower rack.

"Eric—"

He silenced her with a kiss, his body pressing hers against the wall of the shower stall. She let out a small moan, another when she felt something cold and slippery glide across the sides of her body. The warmth of his fingers immediately mingled with the coolness of the soap, leaving her in a mass of chills.

She gave him a small push and drew away from his lips, but that didn't deter his efforts. His fingers spread the body wash around over her smooth stomach, up to her breasts, the pads of his thumb rolling over her nipples. She let out a hitched breath, her hands encircling his wrists to regain some of her control.

"Are you going to use my body wash, too?" she teased.

He pressed his body against hers and slid himself against her a few times, the slippery soap easing his actions. "Like this?" he asked innocently, looking down at the body wash that had transferred to his chest and abdomen.

A shudder ran through her body when she felt his length pressed against her pelvis. She sopped up some soap off his chest and without warning, wrapped her fingers around his erection and gave a gentle squeeze.

He groaned immediately, his hip pressing for whatever he could get, and she smiled at his reaction.

"A little eager, are we?" she asked, running her thumb over the tip of his cock exactly the way she knew he liked it.

It garnered another groan, but he found the dexterity to pull her under the spray of water. His hands roamed her curves as the water rinsed away the suds, and she reached up to kiss him, her fingers still playing with his cock.

He was beginning to get a little light-headed and it was way too early for that, so he mustered up what remained of his resolve and pulled her hands away. She wrapped her arms around his body and shot him a knowing smile.

"Might want to reconsider dubbing yourself Mister Stamina, huh?" she teased in a low voice.

He grinned sheepishly. "You were distracting me from doing this," he reasoned, leaning down to take a nipple between his teeth.

She moaned, her hands moving to keep his head in place as he traced her areola with his tongue. He lapped at her nipple, one hand trailing south to stroke her clit. Her breathing deepened, and she fell back against the wall again as he continued his double assault on her body. He moved to her other breast, rolling her nipple gently between his teeth before licking around it, and the sensation was so intense that she needed to stop him for a moment to catch her breath.

He began a trail of kisses that started between her breasts and travelled down across her stomach. He kneeled down, hands firmly on her thighs. He smiled up at her and tilted his head, pressing a light kiss against her center, feeling a slight vibration down her legs. With his tongue, he flicked gently across her clit, eliciting a shudder, and he felt her buck against his hands. He did it again, the tip of his tongue burrowing between her nether lips and applying calculated pressure to the most sensitive part of her clit. She moaned, his actions nearly driving her up the wall behind her, and her hand came to rest at the top of his head, more for support than as guidance, since he seemed to need very little of the latter.

He continued stroking her with his tongue, lips and teeth occasionally joining in to pleasure her, and the moans and shudders that left her body were all the encouragement he needed to move one hand to her knee to begin its slow ascent up her inner thigh. He pulled his lips away from her clit for a moment to explore her with his fingers. She was slick to the touch, and he had tasted that it wasn't just water from the showerhead. He thumbed her clit, and though she tried every hard to restrain them, her hips bucked against his hand.

"A little eager, are we?" he asked, echoing her earlier words.

"Eric," she breathed, moaning again when his lips replaced his thumb. "I swear to God…"

He smiled and ran his tongue against her center again, tasting something uniquely Calleigh that he was sure he could never get enough of. He nudged her legs further apart to gain better access, then increased pressure against her most sensitive spots, fingertips kneading her thighs in an attempt to spur her on.

She didn't seem to need too many embellishments, however, if the noises she was making counted for anything. He continued his assault at her core, using tongue and teeth to play with her clit until she tightened her fingers on his scalp, and he knew she didn't need much more. He wanted it to be memorable though, so he eased two fingers into her and began scissoring them back and forth, which she seemed to like, if the way she began clawing at his shoulders was any indication. He planted a kiss just under her navel while his thumb rubbed circles on and around her clit.

It became too much, and her whole body shuddered as she came around his fingers, his name leaving her lips in a moan as she did. He helped her ride out her orgasm by keeping his fingers in constant motion until she reached down to stop him. Tremors were still passing through her body when he pushed himself off his knees and kissed his way back up to her lips.

"We're not doing too well on that water conservation," he murmured, leaving kisses on her forehead and nose.

She smiled but ignored him. "I can barely stand up, Eric," she breathed, letting out a tiny chuckle. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You must be pleased."

"Are we talking pleased in general or pleased compared to you?" he asked, feigning innocence. "Because I don't think—"

She laughed. "Shut up," she silenced, pulling him down to properly kiss him, and he had no complaints about that one.

He caught a sparkle in her eye when she drew away, and she promptly flipped him over so that he was the one with his back pressed against the wall.

"Your turn, scuba boy," she whispered as she began her slow descent down his body. She left kisses on his neck and chest while her fingertips trailed down their favorite paths across his skin. Kneeling between his legs, she planted a kiss on each of his hipbones before she flicked her tongue across the tip of his erection.

"You don't have to do that," he protested, every bit the gentleman she'd expected him to be.

"Don't like it?" she asked teasingly, lightly trailing the tip of her tongue along the length of his cock, which twitched in response.

He groaned and tossed his head back against the wall, hands balling into fists. "No, it's not that," he answered throatily, though that was blatantly obvious to her.

"Then be quiet and enjoy it," she admonished with a mischievous smile.

There were no more attempts at courtesy after that, especially as she took him into her hands and ran her thumb over the tip. She saw him looking at her with his lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling with every breath he took, but when she wrapped her lips around him and twirled her tongue around the tip, his head hit the wall again, eyes closing as he concentrated on the sensations she was delivering. She took him deeper into her mouth, tongue in constant motion against his hard length.

"Calleigh, _Jesus_," he hissed, fighting the urge to buck his hips.

Sensing this, she pressed a hand against his pelvis to still him, the other running lightly along the base of his shaft. His breathing quickened again, and he tried to watch her but found that to be nearly impossible, especially if he wanted this to last, and he did. So he took a deep breath and held it, and his hand found hers through the haze of bliss. His fingers laced through hers, and she pulled away from him for a moment to laugh. He couldn't figure out what was so funny, but before he got the chance to ask, she took him into her mouth again, and he suddenly couldn't remember his own name anymore.

Soon, too soon, the sensation of her mouth lavishing attention to his cock became too much for him to take, too much for him to process, and he was losing control fast. She moved quicker against him, and he felt tongue and teeth and a renewed determination originating from her. He knew he needed to stop her, because as much as she seemed to be okay with what she was doing, even enjoying it, he knew her, and he knew, above all, that the mess wasn't something she'd appreciate.

So he summoned up what remained of his willpower and pulled her up to him, and she looked momentarily surprised but quickly understood. She smiled and gripped his shaft with one hand while the other closed around the head. Without anything to hold him back, he pushed into her hands shamelessly, and he felt himself building up again. She began moving her hands, twisting and squeezing, attempting to replicate her tongue's actions.

He grunted, reaching down to toy with her clit, and she let out a tiny whimper. She pushed his hand away to lose the distraction so she could focus solely on what she was doing. She leaned in and landed a kiss on his chest, then trailed her lips up to his neck and began sucking gently on the skin there, heated from the water and her actions. As she continued rolling her palms along his erection, she knew it would take a sliver of additional encouragement.

She pushed herself onto her toes to reach his ear, her naked body sliding against his. "Eric," she whispered, drawing out her accent seductively. "How does this feel?" she asked, increasing the pressure of her movements against his length, the constant spray of water all the lubricant they needed.

He groaned, breathing hard. "Incredible," he managed, hips still moving in sync with her hands, though she had him securely pinned against the wall. "Fucking incredible."

She smiled, her hands working their magic in the small space between their bodies. She peppered kisses down along his jaw line, then pressed her lips to his. Though his eyes were closed, he responded immediately, hands trailing up and down her back to pull her closer. His tongue dipped into her mouth, and as he tasted her, felt himself sliding through her soft but firm fingers, the last of his control slipped away.

He broke away and grunted her name when he climaxed, body shuddering as waves of sheer rapture washed over him. His grip tightened around her body, and his hips thrashed uncontrollably against her willing hands. She did what she could to prolong his pleasure, spreading kisses along his collarbone and dragging her tongue up across his moist skin to lick his pulse point.

As his breathing evened and his heart rate returned to normal, he opened his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, taking in the scent of steam and the faintest remnants of chlorine.

She kissed him lightly on the lips. "I wouldn't have minded, you know," she whispered with an encouraging smile.

It took him a moment to get what she meant. "Maybe not, but you wouldn't have liked it."

She pressed a second kiss to his lips. "Now get out of here, I need to wash my hair before the water turns cold."

With one final quick kiss, he did as he was told, because it was difficult to argue with a woman who could do that with her hands.

Besides, he still had a trick or two up his sleeve.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This was supposed to be finished a long time ago, but life and other fics got in the way, so here it is, finally. These two can never have enough sex. (P.S. It's Jessica's birthday today so this update is for her. ;) Happy birthday, Jess!)

* * *

It didn't take Calleigh too long to finish her shower, get dressed and blow dry her hair, but by the time she completed all that and brushed her teeth, she wasn't surprised to find Eric already buried under the sheets. The night had cooled down, and he looked incredibly comfortable there in her bed, like he fit. Her heart soared.

She climbed into bed and immediately searched out his warmth. She found him with his back turned and to her delight, he was shirtless. Though she'd never volunteer the information, she loved being pressed against his skin as she slept. It was one of those luxuries she never understood until she experienced it, but now she wouldn't trade it for anything. She draped an arm over his body and ran her fingertips slowly down his chest. He stirred.

She felt his hand clasp over hers and she smiled. Shifting even closer, she placed the softest of kisses on his back, and that was enough to get him to turn around and face her. His eyes were closed, but he sought out her forehead, lips lingering there for a moment.

"You smell nice," he mumbled incoherently, pulling her tighter into his arms. He tangled a leg between hers and slipped his hands underneath the hem of her tank top, sighing in satisfaction when he felt her soft skin.

She nuzzled her face against the crook of his neck and moved her hand up blindly to stroke his scalp. "About your lack of hair…"

He groaned. "Why do you have it out against my hair tonight?" he muttered.

She smiled against his skin but didn't say anything. After a minute or two, she withdrew her head and squirmed up so that they were face-to-face. Their lips met, and it was a gentle kiss, soft and lazy.

"I can't fall asleep without you anymore," he whispered through the haze of semi-consciousness, his fingers roaming until they found the bottom of her ribcage.

She rolled the tip of her index finger down his cheek and across his lips. "Why don't you stay over more often?"

He stayed quiet for so long that it worried her. Finally, he shrugged, his shoulders shifting against the pillow. "You'd get sick of having me around."

She smiled but quickly caught the seriousness in his tone, and her smile waned. "Are you seriously worried about that?" she asked, searching out his eyes in the darkness. When he didn't reply, she tugged lightly on his earlobe and tried again. "Eric?"

"Sometimes," came the quiet reply.

She bit her lip. "Why?"

He frowned. "I don't know; I just… I don't want to stifle you."

"Oh, Eric…" She gave his thigh a light squeeze with her legs to reassure him of her affections, but her next words surprised even her. "Why do you keep underestimating how I feel about you?"

"That's not—" He exhaled deeply and tensed. "That's not what I meant."

She swallowed. "I know," she whispered apologetically. "That's not what I meant either."

His head nodded slightly. "Don't worry about it."

The words spoken between them were quiet but meaningful, carefully concocted so as to reveal the bare minimum, but the underlying emotion there was not lost on either of them. There was still that cautiousness he took around her sometimes, but it had nothing to do with trust and everything to do with how scared he was of losing her. He knew there was nothing to suggest that he would, but it was something in his head. Maybe it was all that time he'd waited around for her. Maybe.

"Eric, I wouldn't mind if—" She trailed off and breathed evenly a few times. "Earlier today, I went to get my house key duplicated."

For a moment, he thought that he'd imagined it, that wishful thinking had finally gotten the best of his sanity, but her muscles were tense like she was awaiting the validation, _his_ validation. She was scared, too, of rejection, and he couldn't figure out why. Same reason he was. "Really?"

"Yeah," she breathed. Her body shifted closer, head nuzzling beneath his chin like it belonged there. It did. She reached up and pressed her fingertips against his cheekbone. "Sometimes I can't sleep without you either," she admitted, breath heavy against his neck.

He cupped her cheeks gently and tilted her head up. He dropped three quick kisses to her lips, the third lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Does this mean—"

"Yeah," she repeated with the same quiet sincerity. She squirmed. "Don't feel obligated or anything, I just thought…"

"Hey," he interrupted, pressing his lips to her closed lids. "I'm not so sure you know what you just got yourself into," he murmured playfully, leaving a trail of kisses from the tip of her nose up to her forehead.

She smiled. "If you make us late for work even once," she warned, "I'm kicking you out."

"What if it's your fault?" he asked, playing along.

She scoffed. "It's never my fault."

"That one time in the kitchen?" he rehashed. "That was your fault. I was just standing there innocently, trying to make you some pancakes…"

She chuckled, and her fingernails began lightly scratching his back. "You looked so sexy though," she recalled, "with your little apron."

"You made me put on it on," he replied, feigning annoyance.

She opened her eyes to look at him. "You must not have hated it that much if you'd kept it on for the next hour," she shot back. She lowered her voice. "Even when you took me against the fridge door."

He groaned, shifting uncomfortably as the memories of that day filled his mind. "That's not fair."

She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Too bad."

In one swift motion, he climbed over her and straddled her hips, his hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "We don't have work tomorrow," he said suggestively.

She chuckled. "How do you still have the energy?" she asked, wriggling underneath his weight.

He grinned. "I can't help it," he growled close to her ear. "You're so hot."

She laughed and pressed against his chest to push him away. "I think you've had enough excitement for one night."

He shook his head and began kissing a path down her neck, across her collarbone, and she couldn't help but let him. He slid his fingers higher up against the skin on the sides of her body, bringing with them her top, which pooled below the swell of her breasts. She lifted her arms to help him remove it; he tossed the garment aside and leaned down to flick his tongue across a hardening nipple. She moaned and instinctively arched her back – a good sign, that – but she pressed her palms against his cheeks and pushed his face away.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked softly, her tone neither teasing nor serious. She wanted clarification, though she didn't really need it. It was fairly obvious what he was trying to achieve. Again.

He rested his ear against her bare chest for a moment and listened to her steady heartbeat. "Trying to figure out how fast I can get your heart to race," he answered with the same curiosity she would've expected from a six-year-old.

She smiled and patted the back of his head. "And you couldn't hear my heartbeat through my shirt?"

He lifted his head to look at her. "But to get your heart racing," he countered playfully, "I need to get you naked." He rolled his hips against hers, watching as her eyes widened and she held back a gasp. He did it again, slower, and he felt her grip tighten against his shoulders. "Unless," he added, licking his lips in anticipation, "this is enough for you."

She shuddered at the sensation, at his words, at what she knew he was about to do to her. She slid her hands down across his chest, taking in the way his muscles contracted beneath her fingertips; she liked it. She explored down his abdomen until she found the waistline of his boxers, and though she couldn't reach far enough to remove them, he was more than eager to do it in her stead.

He pushed the covers aside and struggled out of his confining boxers, tossing them aside like he'd done with her top. He nestled his chest between her legs. She was wearing a pair of briefs, and he ran his fingers down the two ribs, carefully gauging her reaction. She didn't offer much of one, but that didn't deter him, because as he pushed aside her underwear, he felt with his fingers the only "reaction" that really mattered.

A soft whimper escaped the confines of her throat, and she reached down to still his hand. "Eric, it's late."

He leaned down and kissed her abdomen. "So?"

"So," she replied, hinting obviousness, "it's late. We need sleep."

He kissed a circle around her navel. "Sleep is overrated," he dismissed, his hands finding the waist of her briefs and tugging gently. When she didn't protest, he slipped his fingers around the waistband and began pulling it down. She lifted her hips to allow him to slide the underwear down her legs and away.

Immediately, he ran his index finger along her center, teasingly, and she squirmed. He smiled at her reaction and brought the tip of his tongue to her clit, lightly tasting her. He felt her thighs press against the sides of his head for a brief moment, an act of impulse.

"Eric…"

He parted her legs with his hands and began kissing his way up the length of her body, his lower lip trailing paths across her light skin. Meticulously lavishing attention to every patch of skin his lips could reach, he slowly worked his way across her abdomen, over her breasts. Though she shivered beneath his touch, she stopped him again, hands finding his cheeks and pushing him away. In the dark, his eyes pierced hers in confusion.

She pulled him up to eye level and tenderly stroked his face. "I love you," she whispered without provocation. "I know I don't say it enough, but I do."

He grinned and leaned down to kiss her, and there was a new fire there, one that spoke of the changes in their relationship, of the intimacy that had always existed but that grew every day they spent together or apart. He read all that and more from her lips moving against his, and he knew the existence was mutual. He pulled away gently, then pressed his lips to hers a few more times, just because. He felt her smile.

He drew his lips across her cheek and down to her ear. "_Te amo_."

She shivered and ran her hands down his back, feeling the muscles there flex under her touch. Her fingers explored until she reached his butt cheeks and kept them curved there. He lifted his hips and ground them down hard against hers, eliciting a surprised moan from her. She reached around into the space between their bodies and took his erection into her hands.

"Say it in Russian," she requested, lightly running her fingertips along his length, her thumb rolling against the tip.

He groaned against her ear. "_Ya lyublyu tebya_," he replied, which she understood. The next string of words that escaped his lips, however, were too quick and too foreign for her to differentiate. She found that the unknown turned her on.

She guided the tip of his cock to her entrance, gently encouraging. He pushed in, and though they'd done this many times, each and every time was different, amazing. He entered her halfway, paused and withdrew slightly before he pushed back in, a little deeper this time. He repeated this motion a few times, sliding in and out, until he felt her completely surrounding him, and she had to lean down and kiss her. He was about to begin to build up a rhythm when he felt her hands on his buttocks, holding him in place. His head spun.

"Calleigh—"

She shook her head, and he felt her squeeze her internal muscles. His hips bucked involuntarily and he grunted in frustration, grinding against her in an attempt to create any sort of friction. Her hands, however, were firm, still, and she had him pinned.

"Calleigh," he breathed in desperation, "please."

Finally, she relented, loosening her grip and letting her hands travel up his back to his shoulders, and immediately, he began moving inside her. His thrusts, however, were not desperate and frantic; they were slow and torturous, tender, and it was her turn to moan. He reached up and brushed a few stray strands of hair away from her face, then rested his weight on his forearms on either side of her head, all the while gently rocking his hips against hers.

His movements were gentle, but what really got her was the depth of emotion in his eyes. He watched her with such intensity, and it scared her before it calmed her. He continued moving inside her, still slow, still careful, and as his fingertips trailed a shaky line down her jaw, along her neck, she shivered again, the vibrations traveling down to where they were joined. She moaned.

"A little—" Another moan, and she lifted her hips in sync with his next thrust. "A little faster."

He kissed her lips, gently dipping his tongue into her mouth, but he maintained his torturous pace. "You're so gorgeous," he murmured against her lips, the words transforming into a groan when her nails dug into the skin on his shoulders. "I'm so lucky."

She shook her head. "I'm luckier."

"I'm the _luckiest_," he countered childishly, his hips continuing to ground against hers.

She chuckled, bucking her hips in tune with his movements. "Eric, please—" The desperation in her voice was thick, insistent. "A little faster."

He kissed the corner of her mouth, pace unchanging despite her pleas. Instead, he reached down between their bodies until he found her clit with his fingers. He pressed down in a circular motion around it. Immediately, she cried out, her fingers clawing at his back.

"You like that?" he teased, repeating the action in the opposite direction.

She moaned again, the feeling of being manually stimulated too intense for her to handle. She reached down and gripped his wrist, temporarily putting a stop to the ministrations of his hand so she could concentrate on how it felt to have him inside her, pushing in to the hilt before withdrawing again. It was amazing, incredible, and he wanted to tell him as much, but the words were lost behind a cry of pleasure when his thrusts increased in frequency.

"Let go," he coaxed, and she had a feeling that he was talking about more than the fingers encircling his wrist.

She stared into his eyes and was blown away by the sheer amount of emotion she felt for this man; it was deeper than anything she'd ever experienced, even for him, and she didn't know whether to be surprised or reassured. She settled somewhere in between, accepting the transformation and not fearing it, because she had him, she loved him, and that was all that mattered.

The new pace, though increased, remained slow, strangely loving, and she was grateful for that, for the affection that poured from him to her and back. She didn't have any time to evaluate it, however, as her mind began clouding over and she neared the edge, tensing, and she sensed much of the same from him.

He felt it, the moment approaching, and he sped up just enough to give both of them the friction they craved without it distracting them from the other sensations filling every nerve in each of their bodies. He thrust deep into her, grunting as he did, and he received an appreciative moan in response. He did it again, evenly and firmly, and her eyes closed as she prepared herself. Her fingers loosened against his wrist, and he gently flicked his thumb across her clit to spur her on. He felt her grip tighten again, all other muscles in her body contracting as well. He lowered his lips to hers again, tasting her, and with one more thrust, it was enough for her.

She came quietly, her body shuddering silently under him; he couldn't hold on any longer either, his muscles tensing as he grunted her name into the air, solidifying it as the only one allowed to leave his lips in the heat of intimacy.

They rode out their climaxes together, hips finally frantic, and they shared the mutual want to make the other feel as incredible as they were feeling, as extraordinary. He murmured words of encouragement into her ear in a tangle of languages, some she could understand, others she couldn't, but she managed to acquire the common theme from them. She released her grip on his wrist and moved both her hands to his lower back, using that as leverage to lift her hips to him. He grunted when he experienced the new angle, though his head was spinning so fast he couldn't think properly about anything.

Eventually, she slowed to a stop, and he followed suit, spent, finally, but if the smile on his face was any indication, he was more than satisfied. He remained inside her until she gently slapped his cheek and reached up to kiss him. Tiny tremors were still humming through her body, and he felt it against her lips, against her skin. He pulled away gently and rolled off her, his arms reaching out to scoop her toward him. She snuggled up to him, and he pulled the covers back over their bodies, even though his skin was burning and he could tell hers was too. She ran her fingertips over his upper back, seeking out where she'd dug her nails into his skin.

"Sorry about that," she murmured, pressing her lips to his chest.

He kissed her forehead and smiled. "Worth every scratch."

She held him tighter. "What did you say?" she asked suddenly, pulling away slightly to look at him. "Before," she clarified. "In Russian."

He chuckled. "It was lamer than it probably sounded."

She touched the tip of his nose. "Tell me," she urged, her curiosity growing tenfold.

He thought about it for a moment. "I said that I loved you."

She nodded eagerly and trailed her finger down to touch his jaw. "I got that part."

He kissed her forehead again. "Then I said that you're the best thing that's happened to me." He paused, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair. "You are," he added quietly.

Her heart clenched in her chest, and she shook her head. "No, _you_ are the best thing that's happened to _me_," she argued.

He smiled and pulled her closer, and she settled there, shifting slightly to find a comfortable position.

"Looks like you forgot to measure my heart rate," she teased.

He chuckled. "There's always tomorrow."

And the day after, she thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep. And the day after that…


End file.
